


Light

by jackandsamforever



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-03
Updated: 2015-02-03
Packaged: 2018-03-10 06:55:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3280949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jackandsamforever/pseuds/jackandsamforever
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is what I would have like to have happened during the CPR scene in last night's episode. Spoilers for Luther Braxton.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Light

**Author's Note:**

> This is my take on the CPR scene. I took some artistic licenses on the timing of everything, but I couldn't help but throw some more shippiness into it.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own anything Blacklist related.

_Would I be able to see it?_

"Red," she croaked out, unable to move or even open her eyes. She couldn't believe it. This wasn't supposed to happen. They were supposed to be far away by the time the boiler blew. Nothing ever went right these days. She coughed and groaned as she managed to crack her eyelids open. Everything hurt.

_To feel it?_

"Reddington!" She listened closely, but heard nothing. Why wasn't he answering, dammit? She shakily got to her feet and searched around the dimly lit, smoke filled room. He had to be close. She finally spotted him pinned under a metal door, unmoving. She hurried towards him and all but flung the door off of him. In the back of her mind she supposed the door should have been heavy, but it felt like nothing. That didn't matter anyway.

She leaned close to his face, hoping to feel his warm breath on her cheek, but the absence of it shook her to the core. She took a deep breath, trying to remember her CPR training. She never thought she'd actually have to use it on someone she lov-... cared about. Was it fifty compressions and two breaths? No. That was the old way.

Dammit, why couldn't she remember?

She placed her hands right below his sternum and began compressions trying to fight down her panic. He couldn't die. Not now. Not when she was just beginning to get answers from him. Not when she was beginning to feel things for him that she shouldn't be.

100\. That's how many compressions she was supposed to do a minute, but she couldn't remember if she was supposed to do two breaths. She couldn't wait any longer. She had to see if he was breathing. She stopped and leaned back down, placing her ear against his lips. Nothing. She tilted his head back and opened his mouth, then placed her lips over his and blew one breath, then another as she made sure his chest rose and fell in her peripheral vision. She couldn't help but notice how soft his lips were, even after all he'd gone through in the last twenty-four hours.

_Would I gravitate to its warmth?_

"Breathe." She sat back up and resumed compressions, but she couldn't get his story out of her head. She'd been confused at first about what the hell he was talking about, but towards the end she had realized that he was referring to her. That she was his warmth and light. She hadn't known what to say then, and she sure as hell shouldn't be thinking about it while she was pounding her hands into his chest; but she couldn't stop. No one but Red had ever said something like that to her before, and it was beautiful.

_Would I become...less hideous?_

She stopped the compressions and leaned down close to mouth. He still wasn't breathing. "Oh my Go-, Breathe!" She felt tears on her face and hated herself so much for caring. She wasn't supposed to care. She should be happy he was dead. He'd ruined her life and now she would be free of him; but that didn't stop the sob that escaped from the back of her throat as she resumed compressions.

"Breathe, you son of a bitch!" Voices. They were coming. She had to do something. They couldn't find him. She quickly found the door she'd flung off of him and placed it carefully back over him, hoping that it would be enough to shield him from those bastards. Before she stood, she placed her face next to his, his cheek still warm and scratchy from stubble, and whispered into his ear, "I'm sorry, Red. I'm so sorry." She didn't really know what she was apologizing for. Perhaps all the times she called him a monster, or maybe all the times she defied him stubbornly, but it still felt right. She wished she could tell him she didn't really think he was a monster. She sighed quietly and brushed her lips across his jaw ever so lightly before standing up and running towards the voices and flashlights that were forcing their way into the room.

They wouldn't get his body if it was the last thing she did.

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously we know he's not really dead. Thank goodness! I haven't written anything decent for a long time, and I'm not sure this is much better, but that CPR scene was so, so good that I had to write an add-on to it. Thanks for reading! :)


End file.
